


Kindred

by whiteroses77



Series: Kindred Spirits [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Coming of Age, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wayne Manor is a lonely place growing up, but Bruce has a special friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Kindred 1/6  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 3,146  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Wayne Manor is a lonely place growing up, but Bruce has a special friend.

}*{

He made his way up to the large ornate wrought iron gates. He raised his hands to shield his eyes and he squinted down the long driveway. The stately home looked huge; he could imagine how many people were intimidated by it. His gaze went to the intercom system on the wall next to the gate. He considered the things he could find inside, things he had gone a long time without. He swallowed and then glanced down at his threadbare clothes. He noticed the hole in his scuffed boot. He unconsciously reached up and combed his fingers through his unwashed hair. He glanced back at the house. Everything he needed was inside. He made the decision. He hefted his backpack. He grasped the gate and pulled himself up, scaling the gate and jumping down the other side.

Then he made his way up the driveway. As he got closer, he detoured and went around the back. He came to the kitchen door. He reached out and tried it. The door swung open and he walked inside. He dropped his backpack. He breathed in deeply. He saw some apples on the countertop; he reached for one and took a huge bite. Then he went to the refrigerator. There he grabbed at foodstuffs he hadn't had in years. He saw a bar of chocolate; he unwrapped the bar and stuffed it into his mouth. He groaned in pleasure. He reached for the bottle of milk, and gulped it down. He saw a bowl, he grabbed it and checked the contents, found it was beef stew. He took the bowl, and put it into the microwave and heated it up. He found some fresh recently made crusty bread. He grabbed it and put it ready. When the stew was piping hot, he got a spoon and sat down at the kitchen table. Then he demolished the savoury deliciousness and the bread as well breaking it off in clumps and dipping it in the gravy. 

As he came to the end, his attention was jarred as he heard a shotgun being cocked. He automatically raised his arms into the air as a show of surrender.

Then a British accent with a touch of steel warned, "You have two minutes to leave, this is private property."

He turned around to face the sentinel of this house saying, "I have no intention of leaving ever again."

As he met the gaze of the smartly dressed guardian, the old man's eyes widened. He asked, "Master Bruce?"

He smiled, "Hello Alfred."

Alfred’s brow creased, "Oh lord it is you."

Then he realised he still held the shotgun, and flustered he put the firearm away quickly. Then his gaze trailed around the kitchen, at the food and the untidiness, his gaze stopping on the empty bowl. Alfred said wryly, "That was my supper."

Bruce shrugged, "I was hungry, I’m sorry."

He saw in Alfred’s eyes understanding. He said, "Think nothing of it; I would have given it to you anyway."

Bruce bowed his head, almost ashamed of the state he appeared in. Alfred approached him. His faithful guardian told him, "You are home now Master Bruce, back where you belong."

He raised his head and nodded with emotion. 

Alfred asked, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

He confessed, "I've done as much as I can do in theory, now it's time to put it all into action.”

~*~

On his way upstairs to get cleaned up, he passed by the parlour where his mother spent most of her time when she was at home. He turned the doorknob and walked in. He saw all the furniture covered in white dust covers. It was years since this place had been used, the years that Bruce had been away but also the years since his mother's passing. But like the rest of Wayne Manor, it was full of old ghosts.

**Past**

Martha Wayne settled the telephone handset back into its cradle. She pinched her lips and sighed in disappointment. She rang the bell for the servants. A minute later Sarah one of the maids arrived. 

The lady of the house instructed, “Tell cook that Mr Wayne will not be home for dinner at the usual hour this evening.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Is Bruce in the nursery?” she wondered.

“As far as I know ma’am, shall I tell nanny to bring him down?”

“No, that won’t be necessary Sarah. Thank you that will be all.”

Sarah gave a short curtsy and left the parlour.

~*~

Martha made her way upstairs. She approached the nursery. She smiled as she heard the flustered voice of Mrs Higgins the nanny, “Calm down, not so wildly little master.”

After she entered, Martha watched with affection as her son rode his rocking horse into such a frenzy that it almost came off the floor, while geeing the toy horse, “Ya, ya.” 

She stifled a chuckle, but Mrs Higgins glanced around and saw her. Then the nanny half scolded half beseeched, “Now Master Bruce look who it is, be a good boy for your mother.”

Bruce took his gaze from the imaginary horizon and spotted her a second before the momentum made him tumble from the saddle of his dappled stallion. He hit the floorboards with a bump. Mrs Higgins screeched in distress and embarrassment of her employer witnessing her lack of control of her charge. Martha rushed to Bruce. She helped him up into her arms, she asked, “Bruce, Bruce are you okay?”

He clung to her, but she felt him nod his head. She pulled back and checked for injuries. “Does anything hurt?”

Her little boy gazed at her thoughtfully and then he swallowed and asked, “If I say yes will daddy come home and put bandages on me?”

She pulled him to her, “Oh Bruce.” She picked him up and said to Mrs Higgins, “That will be all until bedtime Mrs Higgins.”

As Mrs Higgins left the nursery, Martha made her and Bruce comfortable on his small bed. She swallowed to wet her mouth and she then began, “We know why daddy isn’t always here don’t we Bruce?”

Her bright eyed boy nodded, “He is helping people.”

She smiled proudly, “That’s right my clever little darling. We have so much, and there are so many people who don’t and they need our help. Daddy helps lots of people who are very poorly.”

Bruce smiled proudly, “Daddy helps the whole wide world.” 

She chuckled at her son’s optimism. Then she watched as his face became serious. He said quietly, “I miss him though, Mommy.”

Martha cuddled him, she cooed, “I do too.”

~*~

Later Martha and Bruce made their way down to dinner and entered the dining room. Martha took her seat but Bruce spotted Pennyworth straightaway as he entered. The new butler stood to attention. Martha watched as Bruce trotted over to him, and stood by his side and stood to attention too. 

Pennyworth glanced down at him discreetly, and then he returned his attention forward. 

Martha smiled. She said, “I think he likes you Pennyworth.”

Bruce began smiling, but he insisted, “Alfred… Daddy calls him Alfred, so I will call him Alfred too.”

She laughed, and asked the man, “I hope you don’t mind?”

The new butler bowed slightly, “He can call me whatever he wishes, ma’am.”

Bruce clapped his hands and then scurried over to his seat at the dining table. When he was comfortable, he glanced around the table and then he asked, “Where’s Daddy?”

Martha said, “Do you remember what we were talking about earlier?”

Her son nodded, but then he said, “I want him to come home.”

Martha winced, and glanced at Alfred. Then Alfred cleared his throat and informed him, “I am going to fetch him right now and bring him home in the car, Master Bruce.”

Bruce squealed with delight, he clapped his little hands and looked adoringly at his new hero.

**Present**

Bruce made his way upstairs. He walked to the door of his old nursery. It had been years since he had been inside. He opened the door, and walked in and marvelled at the small furniture and the tiny bed. He smiled and went to the nightlight at the side of the bed and switched it on. He had moved to his bedroom when he was five but the old nursery had many special memories inside.

**Past**

Alfred pulled the car up outside in front of the Manor. From the passenger seat, he didn’t see the point of riding in the back when he was alone and it wasn’t a formal occasion, Thomas Wayne smiled tiredly at the man that he had hired to look after his home and his family while he was so busy at the hospital. “It has been a long day.”

“Yes sir.”

“I hope my wife wasn’t too upset that I missed dinner.”

“Your wife is a strong woman. She can cope because she understands your duty. Though she misses you sir, it is Master Bruce I fear who misses his father more.”

Thomas nodded, “I know he’s growing so fast. I want to help the citizens of my city. But there are misfortunes to dedicating your energies to your calling; you begin to feel cut off from the things you love the most.”

Alfred nodded politely.

He sighed and then said goodnight. He exited the car and headed into the house.

~*~

He made his way to the nursery. Martha had told him about the bump that Bruce had received as he was thrown from his rocking horse. His son seemed to have the fearlessness of the Wayne’s of old. He entered the nursery to find his son already in bed asleep. He went and sat down on the edge of the bed. He checked the small lump on his forehead in the glow of his nightlight. 

Then he caressed his hair gently. Bruce wiggled under the sheets and then his eyes opened and he looked around. His son saw him and a smile blossomed on his face. He tried to sit up but Thomas made him stay put. “Hush now. Stay right there.”

His bottom lip stuck out and he crossed his arms, “Daddy.”

“Hey put that lip away. Your mother told me about how you fell off your horse. Are you okay?”

Bruce nodded.

Thomas smiled, “Good, now look at this I have to show you.”

He pulled out the charm, which was attached to a leather lace and he showed it to Bruce. The little boy stared at it. He said, “It’s pretty.”

Thomas nodded, “An elderly lady that I helped today gave it to me. She said it had been passed down in her tribe for many years. She wanted me to have it for good luck.”

“What’s tribe?”

He smiled, “It’s like a big family, lots of people who live together and help each other.”

Bruce nodded. “Like Alfred?”

He chuckled, “Kind of…”

His son’s eyes were still on it, he whispered, “It’s like one of those ices… um icicles that were hanging outside my window at Christmas.”

Thomas glanced at the crystal and agreed, “Yes but only a small one.”

Bruce tried to reach out for it, “Mine?”

He could imagine a little someone putting it in his mouth and swallowing it, or choking himself with the lace. He chuckled, “No Bruce.”

Bruce wittered, “Want it.”

“Not yet, maybe when you get older.” He wanted to give in when he saw the look of disappointment on his little face but he knew he had to be firm. “I will have your mommy put it away in her jewellery box and you can have it when you are bigger.”

His son crossed his arms and said sullenly, “Okay Daddy.”

He stood up and kissed his forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Daddy.”

**Present**

Bruce smiled in reminiscence and left the nursery. He went down to his bedroom that he found was exactly the same as before he left. He had a shower. He walked to his closet naked and searched through his old clothes for something to wear. He knew that some of these clothes were probably out of fashion by now but at the moment, he would be grateful for something that actually fit him. He hadn’t really realised how much he had grown since he left to go on his travels. He tried a shirt and found the sleeves too tight around his biceps and he couldn’t button it up either. Finally, he settled on a black hooded sweatshirt that had been baggily in style when he left and now was almost tight. He found some pants and then he went downstairs. 

He found Alfred had made some tea. Bruce took the beverage gratefully. He informed his guardian, “We will need to go clothes shopping.”

Alfred nodded, “Yes Sir.”

Bruce glanced up and scowled at the title. Alfred just shrugged. He noticed the TV in the corner of the kitchen. He frowned when he saw the footage. He asked, “Turn it up.”

Alfred reached for the remote and raised the volume. Bruce watched as the news footage played. The reporter was saying with excitement, ‘It might have been a tragedy today for the rush hour travellers, using the Hobbs Bay tunnel. The steel supports at the entrance and exit had collapsed trapping commuters inside. There was no hope for them but that was before our city’s guardian angel arrived and he lifted the heavy weight onto his broad and may I say gorgeous shoulders. Everyone escaped with no casualties, all thanks to Superman.’

Bruce gazed at the images of the man in red and blue holding the steel supports of the tunnel up easily. Bruce could tell the strain on the strong man’s face was that of concentration, as he negotiated the balance and not from the weight that he was lifting.

Bruce glanced at Alfred who he saw was watching him. Alfred said, “Amazing isn’t he, he arrived while you were gone. The people love him and those with a reason to fear him hate him.”

Bruce gave him a small smile and thought back. 

**Past**

After Daddy said goodnight, Bruce thought about the pretty little icicle until he finally fell asleep. The next day he thought about it some more. Daddy said it was his, but Daddy said he had to wait. He didn’t know how long he was supposed to wait but Bruce wanted the sparkly icicle now.

Daddy was at work helping people again. Mommy was talking to those ladies again in the garden. Mommy said that those ladies help her help other little boys and girls but all Bruce ever saw them do is have lunch in the garden. And Alfred… he didn’t know where he was, but he wasn’t here. He never saw him upstairs. And Nanny, she was snoring sitting in her rocking chair in the corner of Bruce’s nursery. Bruce knew that when Nanny fell asleep she could be snoring for ages and ages.

Bruce shook himself giddily and then he set off on his secret mission. 

He left the nursery and rushed down the hall to Mommy’s bedroom. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the door handle and then he entered. He circled around Mommy and Daddy’s huge bed and then he quickly found the big black box Mommy put her sparkly things in. He climbed up on a chair and then lifted the lid and opened the box. There were red sparkles and blue sparkles. There were see-through ones too but they were smaller than Bruce’s icicle. There were lines of tiny round balls that didn’t really sparkle but they were pretty too. 

Then he saw it. He clapped his hands, and grabbed the little icicle. He closed the big black box. Then he climbed down from the chair. He left Mommy’s bedroom and rushed back down the hall to the nursery.

As he entered, he saw Nanny was still asleep. He cheered silently at his success. He gazed at the icicle. He glanced around wondering where he should hide it. Finally, he decided to hide it in the wardrobe. He excitedly opened the door, and entered. He didn’t want to give his prize up so soon. He closed the door to from the inside, and he sat down and held onto his prize a little bit longer.

Then in the darkness of the wardrobe, he heard a noise, like someone was breathing. Bruce licked his lips and asked nervously, “Is someone there?”

A quiet voice answered, “Hello?”

Bruce glanced around unnerved. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. He asked, “What are you doing in my wardrobe?”

The voice laughed, “I’m not in your wardrobe; I’m in mine.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, he was pretty sure this was his wardrobe, in his nursery, in his house. He swallowed, “Um so what are you doing in the wardrobe?”

“I’m hiding from Daddy, because I broke Mommy and Daddy’s bed.”

Bruce remembered how big Mommy and Daddy’s bed was, it was really big. It was made of wood and it was almost as big as a tree. He asked, “How did you break the bed?”

“I lost my ball underneath and I lifted it up to get it and it just broke to bits.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah and now I think he wants to send me away. I heard him say to Mommy, ‘He might be better off living somewhere else Martha, with people who can handle this sort of thing.’"

Bruce was dismayed, he exclaimed, “Daddy helps people, he won’t send you away. I promise.”

The quiet voice said, “I hope so.”

He glanced around the darkness, he said, “I didn’t know it was so dark in the wardrobe.”

The little voice agreed, “Me neither, I have an Elmer Fudd nightlight next to my bed but I don’t think it works in the wardrobe.”

“Elmer Fudd…?” he asked.

“Huh-huh.”

Bruce asked, “My name is Bruce, what’s your name?”

“My name is Clark.”

Suddenly Bruce heard Nanny wake up and he opened the door to the wardrobe a crack. A stream of light flooded in and Bruce’s eyes widened as he saw a little black haired boy sitting across from him. He stuttered, “H…hi Clark.”

The little boy smiled at him, “Hi.” Then his big blue eyes widened and he said, “I’ve got to go.”

He climbed out of the wardrobe and disappeared into thin air.

Bruce’s jaw dropped, and then he gazed down at the icicle in his hand. He stashed it away at the back of his wardrobe and then he left the wardrobe too.

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Kindred 2/6  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,975  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce help each other through the pains of growing up.

**Present**

The next few days were a busy time. He went shopping, bringing home a new wardrobe of clothes. As he had been his entire life, he was grateful for Alfred’s advice. Clothes had never been a high priority in his life, so without Alfred’s help he would have been at a loss. Alfred had an innate sense of style. Bruce had spent years mastering a variety of skills and techniques; he decided that he would have to master the art of dressing well too. It wasn’t important to Bruce but he understood that it helped to honour his family’s name and reputation. 

He had meetings with the Wayne Enterprises’ board, revealing his return and his agenda for his family’s company. Alfred again had kept an eye on the players and recommended those he believed that Bruce could trust to put the company’s needs first. 

In short, he was just trying to get all of the minutia out of the way so he could begin his real task, the reason why he had travelled the world. 

He also kept an eye on the news, wanting to know everything about Superman, well everything he didn’t already know that is…

 

**Past**

Bruce spent the next few days in a tizzy. He loved the icicle, but he was worried about touching it again. ‘What if that little boy came back again?’ Clark seemed really nice; he wasn’t scared of him or anything, but the thing was Bruce knew that there shouldn’t be a boy in the wardrobe.

He waited, and he waited and he didn’t tell anyone about it. But then his curiosity got the better of him. He waited until bedtime and he was all alone in his dark nursery. He went to the wardrobe and he got the icicle. Then he came out again and sat on his bed. He swallowed nervously and then he held the icicle in little hands and he stared at it intently.

After a few moments nothing happened, Bruce began to wonder if maybe it only worked in the wardrobe, or maybe Daddy had sent Clark away like Clark thought he would.

His fear ebbed away and it was replaced by disappointment.

He whispered, “I’m sorry that you were sent away Clark.”

Then he heard, “Hi Bruce.”

Bruce jumped out of his skin and he turned around and saw the black haired boy sitting up in bed next to him. Bruce reached out and switched the nightlight on. The light shone brightly and Bruce could see Clark fully. He had some red and blue pyjama’s on. Bruce said, “Hi.”

Clark said, “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

Bruce bowed his head and admitted bashfully, “I was scared.”

“So was I.” Clark uttered.

He glanced back at him, and he thought Clark looked kind of sad, and he got the feeling that Clark had been scared about something else. He asked, “Daddy didn’t send you away?”

The black haired boy bowed his head and looked at his hands, then he told him, “Daddy put me in the truck and…”

Bruce frowned in confusion and asked, “What’s truck?”

Clark looked up. He mirrored his frown and asked, “You don’t know what the truck is?”

He felt like maybe he was stupid or something, he shook his head. 

The black haired boy frowned even more, then he said, “It’s um, I don’t… um you know what a car is?”

Bruce smiled and nodded. 

Clark smiled in relief, “Um well the truck is like a big car, ours is red. I like red things.”

He grinned happily and then he asked, “So what happened when Daddy put you in the truck?”

Clark looked sad again as he explained, “We drove to a really big b…building, and we sat outside looking up at it. Daddy said that I had to be brave and that the people inside would look after me.” Clark’s lip quivered and he pinched his lips together, “I didn’t want to leave Mommy and Daddy but I…I tried to be brave for Daddy really I did. Then Daddy went to open the truck door and he squeezed the handle so hard, and he just sat there for a very long time. I was quiet and I tried to be brave. But then Daddy started crying.”

Bruce’s shook his head silently, and thought distraughtly, ‘Daddy never cries.’

Clark sniffled, “Then Daddy hugged me so hard, and he ruffled my hair and he kissed my head. And I said to him, ‘It’s okay Daddy I’ll be brave.’ And Daddy nodded and told me, ‘You are brave Clark. You are my brave and special boy.’ and then he started the engine and he turned the truck around and brought us home again.”

Bruce smiled shakily, “I told you Daddy wouldn’t make you go away.”

Clark's face brightened.

Bruce asked, “Are you my friend?”

Clark nodded, “If you want me to be.”

He smiled, he climbed into bed, and they snuggled down under the covers. Clark and Bruce smiled at each other and then they drifted to sleep.

 

**Present**

Alfred was making them dinner, as Bruce revealed his plan to him. His guardian and friend replied, “It seems a bit extreme, if you ask me.”

Bruce tilted his head as he gazed at him and asked, “You have always accepted my quirks Alfred, are you saying this time you won’t?”

Alfred narrowed his eyes scornfully, “You know me better than that Master Bruce.”

 

**Past**

As Alfred Pennyworth walked the gardens, a familiar shadow walked beside him. His pace was a tad slower than usual so the talkative little blighter could keep up.

“…anyway I’ve seen pictures of them in books and Clark says they make funny noises like this, moo moo.” He giggled, “Can we have some cows, Alfred?”

“Where would they live?” Alfred asked.

“Clark said they eat grass, and look…” he twirled in a circle pointing at the manicured lawns, “We have lots and lots of grass.”

Alfred pressed his lips together, “There is lots of grass.”

“Can we have cows Alfred …please?”

He replied, “That is up to your mother and father, Master Bruce.”

“And chickens.” He clapped his hands together, “We could have them for breakfast. Couldn’t we Alfred?”

He asked wryly, “Chickens for breakfast?”

His little charge laughed, “No silly, eggs.”

As they returned to the patio Martha Wayne stepped outside, she asked, “Nanny and I wondered where he was, he isn’t any bother is he Alfred?”

“No bother at all.” Alfred said warmly.

Bruce gazed up at them, “Clark told me to tell you about the milk too.”

Martha frowned, she asked, “Clark… who is…?”

Alfred explained, “I think Master Bruce has found himself an imaginary friend, ma’am.”

Martha appeared slightly worried, “Do you think that is something we should nip in the bud?”

“I do not think it is harmful, probably something he will grow out of eventually.”

 

**Present**

Bruce smiled as he came back to the moment. He glanced up as the delivery men carried in the heavy boxes. He said, “Follow me.”

He led them down the hallway, and into the old workout room that he planned to upgrade. When the delivery men left, Alfred joined him in the workout room. Alfred asked, “A new gymnasium Master Bruce?”

“For my plan to come to fruition and for me to do my job I will have to keep up my fitness.” He explained wryly.

His lifelong mentor raised an eyebrow in recognition.

 

**Past**

It was Saturday; there was no school on Saturday. Bruce liked learning new things but he didn’t like going to school much, so Bruce liked Saturday’s, and today Bruce was exploring the Manor, even though it was his own home, it was so big that he sometimes felt like it was his own kingdom, lots and lots of strange new places to find, and explore. As he drew closer to a room he’d never been in before, he heard the thump thump of something hitting something in a steady uninterrupted way. He came around the doorway and he spotted Alfred. He was wearing a tank top and some shorts. He was breathing shallowly and Bruce could see he was sweating too as he hit a big black sack hanging from the ceiling. 

Bruce grinned at the image, he had never seen Alfred in anything other than a buttoned up suit. He entered the room, and he saw some weights in the corner. He saw a jump rope hanging on a hook. Bruce giggled; he had only ever seen girls at school playing with jump ropes. 

Alfred stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Bruce. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “And what may I ask do you find so amusing, young master?”

He grinned and asked, “What are you doing Alfred?”

Alfred reached for a towel nearby and wiped his forehead. He crouched down in front of Bruce so they were at eye level. He explained, “It is called keeping fit. You see one of my jobs is to look after you and everybody who lives at Wayne Manor, so I have to be fit to do that.” 

Bruce’s eyes widened and he asked, “Me too, can I help you?”

Alfred’s eyes widened in surprise, “I am not sure your mother, and father would approve.”

He nodded vigorously, “I can do it, please Alfred.” he rushed over to the black bag thing, and he hit it as hard as he could. The blow smarted and he held his hand, “Ouch!” 

Alfred let out a little laugh and came over, he said, “First of all you have to learn to respect your apparatus. This is called a punching bag. So firstly you need to know how to punch it correctly.” He reached for Bruce’s hands and he curled his fingers in, “There you go. Keep your thumbs in.”

Bruce tried curling his thumb inside his fist. But Alfred warned, “No, no don’t tuck it in there.” he made him put his thumb flat against his curled fingers. “Very good, now you start off by hitting the bag gently…”

~*~ 

That night in bed, Bruce was explaining, “So Alfred is going to let me train with him every day.” He held up his fists the way Alfred had shown him and he punched the air, “See like this.”

Clark was gazing at him with wide eyes, he said, “Daddy won’t let me do that.” He nodded his head as he remembered, “Got to be gentle.” 

Bruce laughed, “Yeah but it’s only a punching bag. You couldn’t hurt a punching bag.”

His best friend shook his head he said, “You remember that time that I told you about that bully at my school?”

Bruce swallowed while remembering and nodded, “You said he was a lot bigger than you, and all you did was push him away, Clark.”

“Yeah, I did and he fell against the door and broke it. His mommy had to come and take him home, and he didn’t come back to school for days.”

“I know.” He consoled. “It doesn’t matter. I can show you everything that I learn.”

 

**Present**

Alfred had gone along with his plans but he was also not shy about questioning his methods, “But how are you going to keep your secret life under wraps, Master Bruce, if all your equipment is on display and open to discovery?”

Bruce nodded knowingly, “Actually I have an idea about that.”

 

**Past**

While driving home from school, Bruce asked from the back seat, “Is Mom and Dad at home, Alfred?”

“Your mother is attending a meeting at the Wayne Foundation today and your father is going to pick her up on his way home from the hospital.”

Bruce nodded with resignation. When the car pulled up outside the Manor, he jumped out of the car and ran into the gardens. Alfred’s disapproving voice called, “Have you got any homework, young man?”

Bruce laughed and called back, “I will do it later. It’s too nice to be inside.”

He continued running across the lawns. He made it to his favourite tree, and climbed up and sat in the branches. He wasn’t supposed to wear jewellery at school but no one could see it under his collar. He brought his good luck charm out from under his collar and stared at it. He asked, “Are you there Clark?”

He glanced up and smiled as he saw his friend appear, he had the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up to the elbow. Clark rolled his eyes at him. “Some of us have chores.”

Bruce smirked and joked, “What are chores?”

Clark squinted at him, “Ha-ha very funny.”

He admitted, “I’m supposed to be doing my homework right now.”

“What kind of homework?” his best friend asked.

Bruce grimaced, “Math.”

Clark laughed, “Math is easy.”

“It’s alright for some.” He grumbled while swinging his legs from the branch.

“You just have to concentrate and practise that’s all.”

Bruce shrugged, “I guess so.”

“I’ll help you study later if you want.” Clark offered.

He replied with a grin, “That would be great.”

Suddenly Clark turned and glanced at something that Bruce could never see. Then he grimaced, “Okay later then. I’ve got to get back to my chores.” 

He watched as Clark jumped down and set off running. He began to disappear as he usually did but then he kind of disappeared in a blink of Bruce’s eye, Bruce heard Clark scream at the same time. Bruce jumped down from the tree and set off running, trying to follow his distressed friend. He ran and ran and then the ground seemed to give way under him and Bruce fell and fell. He hit the bottom of the dark hole with a jolt. He winced and then sat up in the wet and darkness. He held his skimmed knee. He heard fluttering overhead, then suddenly something flew into his face and Bruce screamed in terror.

He grasped his crystal and he pleaded, “Clark, Clark are you there?”

“Bruce?” an equally scared voice came through the darkness.

He tried to forget his own problems as he asked, “What happened to you, why did you scream?”

Clark answered in a terrified voice, “Bruce, I’m lost; I don’t know where I am.”

Bruce swallowed, “What do you mean; you were just doing chores weren’t you?”

He could hear Clark breathing heavily, “I was and then Dad said I was running behind and so I ran to try to be quicker. Oh my god, Bruce I couldn’t stop running. And now I’m lost.”

“What can you see?”

“Trees, there’s just trees everywhere.” Clark said in wonder.

“It must be some sort of woods or a forest. I’ve read about them in the encyclopaedia, it said that some of them go on for miles.”

“Bruce what am I going to do. How do I get home?” Clark beseeched him.

“I don’t know Clark… um do you think what happened to you is like your strength?” 

“I guess so; mom and dad always said I was so strong because I’m special. Geez Bruce it’s dark here I wish I could see you.”

He smiled, “I wish I had a flashlight.”

Clark chuckled, “You can’t carry a flashlight around with you just in case you need it.”

“Maybe I could.” He considered it.

Then another creature flew at him, and he cried out again. Then there was urgency in Clark’s voice. “Bruce what’s the matter, why are you scared too?”

He admitted, “I’m lost too, I tried to help you when you screamed and I fell, I’m somewhere very dark and there’s these things that keep flying at me.”

“Are they birds?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then they are probably bats, we get them at the farm.”

“Bats?” he asked nervously. “Like vampire bats?”

“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you but try not to make any noises, if they’re disturbed they will just head straight for any sounds.”

Bruce snorted, “How am I supposed to keep quiet and stop you from worrying at the same time?”

“It’s okay Bruce, you don’t have to talk just knowing you are there helps.” Clark reassured him.

Bruce asked quietly, “How long do you think it will be until someone finds us?”

“I don’t know but Mom and Dad will find us, I know they will.”

~*~

It seemed like hours, and then Clark whispered, “I think I can see a flashlight. Then Bruce heard movement above, and then they called at the same time, “I’m here.”

A familiar and much loved voice called, “Hold on Master Bruce, we will have you out of there in no time.”

“Okay, please hurry.” He called up, and then he whispered to Clark, “He found me.”

Clark replied with relief, “They’re both here. It’s Mom and....”

Then Bruce looked up as someone lowered down. As the figure came closer, he was told soothingly, “It’s okay Bruce, I’m going to get you out of there.”

Bruce smiled full of hope, “Dad.”

Then Dad called up, “I need more rope Alfred.”

“Yes sir.” Bruce heard Alfred reply. 

 

**Present**

Alfred looked around the cave in dismay, “Are you sure this is a good idea, Master Bruce?”

“It’s perfect.” He murmured. 

It contained the right combination of terror and hope that he planned to give to the streets of Gotham. The terror of what was coming at you in the darkness of the night and the hope of the innocent that someone was going to come out of the darkness and save you. He knew both emotions very well.

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Kindred 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,823  
Warning: Character death  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Tragedy rocks Bruce’s world.

**Past**

Bruce got out the car. He walked a few steps towards the Manor. He turned and watched the line of black cars drive slowly down the driveway and out of the gate. He felt numb. He felt like the events of the last few days had happened to someone else. 

He could feel Alfred’s presence beside him, and then Alfred reached out and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He did nothing else but Bruce set his jaw, trying to stay in control and not break down in front of anyone. Alfred’s hand guided him along. They turned their backs and entered the Manor.

~*~

Bruce lay on his bed, and for the hundredth time he replayed the horrifying scene of his mom and dad standing beside him on the street, of a man walking up to them, of his parents putting themselves in front of him, shielding him, blocking his view, and then suddenly falling down in front of him. He doesn’t even remember the sound of the gun going off, just them falling away silently, then the sound of their heads hitting the sidewalk with a thud. He remembers those sounds clearly.

He doesn’t remember seeing the man running away, but he remembers looking down and seeing their eyes, just staring ahead at nothing. He remembers how even though their bodies were still lying there, the blankness of their gaze had told him they were already gone, gone somewhere else. He didn’t know where… somewhere.

He tried to clear his mind, and tried not think about it. Last night he couldn’t sleep and the only way he had managed it was by imagining just black nothingness, not thoughts, not sounds, no nice pictures just black void. 

Then he woke up this morning and for a second he forgot, and he thought he had to get ready for school. Then he remembered. Then he felt numb again.

Unconsciously he reached for his crystal. He remembered his dad showing it to him that night, one of the many nights that he came home late.

A tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“Bruce what’s wrong?” a tentative voice asked.

His brow creased and he whispered, “They’re gone Clark.”

“Who are gone?” Clark asked.

“Mommy and Daddy are gone.”

He saw out the corner of his eye as Clark glanced away and looked towards the door. He asked wonderingly, “Gone?”

Bruce sat up and he announced, “They’re dead, Mommy, and Daddy are dead!”

Clark was shaking his head in denial, “No, no I just saw them downstairs.”

“They’re dead.” He whispered.

Clark rushed to the bedroom door and ran out, Bruce chased after him, and Clark ran down the stairs, calling in distress, “Mom.”

Something tore through Bruce then, he had never really understood how his and Clark’s life was connected but now he knew that somehow with their differences, that Clark still had Mom and Dad. 

The thing inside him twisted and he screamed, “Go away and don’t come back.”

Clark stopped on the stairs, he turned back and stared at him, and then he rushed back to him, really quickly as he had been able to do ever since he had got lost in Palmer Wood. Clark looked distraught, he said, “Don’t say that Bruce, please. Just let me see if Mom and Dad are all right.”

Bruce hollered at him, “I do mean it, leave me alone!”

Then he pulled the crystal from around his neck and he chucked it down the grand staircase. Clark whispered forlornly, “Bruce.” Then he faded away and disappeared. The crystal chimed as it hit step after step, until it fell silent at the bottom.

He stared at the empty space where his best friend had been, his chest heaving. He stared for ages and then he cried out in despair and he rushed down the stairs, down and down until he reached the marble floor at the bottom and then he dove for the crystal, grasped it, and held it tightly. He sobbed, “I’m sorry, please come back, please, don’t leave me too.”

Nothing happened, but Bruce just remained there weeping over it clutched in his hand.

A little while later, he saw shiny black shoes come to a stop in front of him. Then he was being gathered into grown-up, strong arms. Then he was carried back up the stairs.

While his tears patted out and dried on sore reddened cheeks, Alfred sat on his bed, and gazed at him without saying a word. Alfred offered him a handkerchief. Bruce wiped his eyes and blew his nose. Then Bruce said in a croaky voice, “Alfred, it’s my fault that everyone goes away.”

Alfred didn’t argue or try to quiet his self-accusations, he said only, “All you need to know is that I will never leave you; you can count on that my boy.”

“You promise?” he asked with a hitching breath. 

“I promise you, Bruce.”

~*~

The next day he tried talking to Clark again, and again there was no reply, but Alfred caught him at it. He asked sensitively, “You have been talking to your old friend again, I did not realise he was still around.”

Bruce glanced at his guardian, he admitted, “He’s always been here but I told him not to come back but oh Alfred, I didn’t mean it.”

Alfred smiled, “I am sure Master Clark will come again if you really want him to, Master Bruce.”

Bruce returned the smile with a small one, “I hope so.”

 

**Present**

There was the steady sound of footfalls on the stone path that circled the manor house. As he jogged past, he noticed Alfred watching him from the steps. He waved at him. Then Alfred motioned to him and Bruce changed his route and jogged up to him. Alfred smiled and then held out a water bottle. Bruce reached out and took it. He jogged on the spot and took a gulp of ice cold water from it. He said gratefully, "Thanks Alfred."

His guardian asked, "Do you plan to run the grounds every day?"

Bruce nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stayed in constant motion. He revealed, "I plan to."

"A circuit of the estate is better than sticking to the treadmill. At least you can get some fresh air and some sunshine at the same time."

Bruce smiled and agreed. "Yes sir."

Alfred shook his head in fondness. Bruce tried to give the water bottle back but Alfred admonished, "Take it, you should always have water with you."

He rolled his eyes good naturedly. Then he continued his circuit. He ran past the small wall in the garden. He glanced back at it and he remembered…

 

**Past**

He was sitting out in the garden. Alfred insisted he go outside to get some fresh air. He wasn’t doing anything just sitting there on the little wall. Then there was a little flutter from the trees and then a robin landed on the lawn, and hopped a round. Bruce smiled. Then it flew off just as quickly as it came and Bruce’s smile faded to nothing again.

“There must be a nest somewhere around.” A familiar voice said from beside him.

Bruce’s breath caught and he turned. His smile returned, “Clark, you came back.”

His friend smiled, “You can be as mean or as grumpy as you want, but you will never scare me away ever.” 

He nodded bashfully. He really wished he could hug Clark right now but he knew he couldn’t. They had tried before. 

Clark gazed at him and told him gently, “Mom… I mean my mom and dad are okay.”

Bruce knew then that Clark had realised the same as him, he nodded and said quietly, “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “I’m happy for you Clark, I really am.” 

They were silent for a while and Bruce asked, “Are they happy, Mom and Dad. I mean are they happy there on the farm?”

Clark smiled softly at him, “Yeah, they’re happy.”

~*~

That night, they lay in his bed in the darkness facing each other. Clark asked quietly, “Why… I mean why did…”

Bruce swallowed, “You mean why he killed them?”

Clark nodded sideways against the pillow.

“I don’t know, I think he wanted… I think he was trying to steal Dad’s watch and wallet and he was trying to take Mom’s necklace too. I don’t know why he shot them though.”

“Maybe he was nervous and pulled the trigger by accident.”

Bruce thought back. He really couldn’t remember the bad guy’s face. It was weird. But he told his friend, “I don’t think he was nervous, I mean he shot them both, if it was a mistake why did he shoot both of them?”

“I don’t know, but I thought maybe he was worried in case Sheriff Ethan came and arrested him.”

“Sheriff Ethan?”

“Yeah Dad always says hello to Sheriff Ethan when we go into town for supplies.” 

Bruce shook his head, “I don’t think we have a Sheriff Ethan. The policeman who talked to me afterwards was Sergeant Gordon.” He licked his lips nervously, “When it happened I waited there a long time with Mom and Dad before the police came.”

Clark wondered, “I wonder if that’s why the bad guy wasn’t nervous, if he knew the police wouldn’t come straightaway.”

Bruce gritted his teeth, “He should have been afraid, I wish he had been too scared to do anything, like I was when I was stuck in that cave with those bats.”

Clark agreed softly, “So do I.”

 

**Present**

He left the workout room with a towel around his neck after a gruelling work out. He entered the kitchen to find Alfred’s hands covered in flour. A warm sweet smell came from the oven. He tried not to smile as he remembered.

 

**Past**

It was summer vacation and Bruce and Clark were talking in the sunshine, “My mom bakes these really… I mean really nice muffins. She told me that when she came to live on the farm with Dad, she couldn’t cook at all, and now she makes all these yummy things, and even normal dinners are great.”

Bruce smiled, “My mom never baked, we always had a cook who made everything.”

“Was she good at it?”

“I guess so. But she’s gone now, so there’s nobody here to make muffins.”

“Where did she go?” Clark wondered.

“After, you know after… lots of people who lived and worked here are gone now.”

Clark nodded, “It’s kind of like that here, there used to be farmhands, you know men that used to come and help Dad during harvesting but now they don’t come. Mom and I help Dad as much as we can though.”

They walked in companionable silence for a while and then Clark suggested, “Why don’t you ask Alfred if you and he can make some muffins.”

Bruce laughed, “Maybe I will.”

~*~

Alfred asked in quiet horror, “Muffins, Master Bruce?” 

“Clark said they’re really nice.” Bruce tried to appeal to him.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, “I wish I could talk to Master Clark, and tell him off for putting these notions into your head.”

Bruce grinned up at him.

His guardian shook his head, “Maybe we can arrange for a local bakery to deliver some.”

He shook his head, “No, they have to be homemade, they are better that way.”

Alfred sighed and said, “Very well little master we will make an attempt.” 

Alfred turned and Bruce followed him to the kitchen. Alfred checked the shelf where there were some really thick books. “Let us see if we can find a recipe in one of those old cookbooks.”

Bruce cheered, “You’re the best Alfred.”

~*~

Clark laughed with delight, “Fairy cakes, what happened to the muffins?”

Bruce sulked, “It was an old English cookbook, and Alfred said they were close enough.”

His friend laughed some more. Bruce declared, “Well I liked them, and Alfred let me lick out the cream bowl.”

Clark’s eyes widened, “Cream?”

“Yeah we put cream on them, it was delicious.”

His friend’s lips puckered, “Mom doesn’t put cream on my muffins, that’s not fair.”

Bruce smiled self-importantly at the small victory.

 

**Present**

He returned to the cave. It was hard work getting the place, not comfortable but habitable. He wiped the sweat and the grime from his brow. He considered getting some serious industrial grade humidifiers down here. Alfred appeared at the archway that they had made that followed the carved out passage into the Manor.

Alfred shook his head and muttered, “Look at you.”

Bruce looked down at himself and remembered…

 

**Past**

Clark was telling him excitedly, “So you remember when my dad said, because I help him so much, he going to make me my own space. Well he’s done it. He cleared out half of the hayloft, and now I’ve got a desk to do my homework, and a couch and dart board…” His smile got even brighter, “And he gave me a telescope, and I can use it to look out the window and I can see the moon and the stars, and sometimes it's like I can see forever.”

Bruce smiled, “That’s great Clark. I wish I could see it too.”

His friend’s smile dimmed, “So do I, but anyway it doesn’t matter, we’ve always had our own fun huh?”

“Yeah…” He drawled.

Clark grinned, “Come on let’s do something, I’ve already done my chores for today.”

~*~

Bruce entered the house through the kitchen. As Alfred glanced up and saw him, a lump of mud and grass fell from his jeans onto the kitchen floor. Alfred shook his head in disgrace, “Take those dirty clothes off, and then you can go get into that bath young man. Look at the state of you. You should be ashamed.”

As Bruce removed his sneakers, Alfred said in annoyance, “What have you been doing? You look as though you were dragged through a hedge backwards.”

Bruce shrugged. “I was just playing.”

“Playing… you are a supposed to be growing into a fine young gentleman. You are doing very well at school, yet you insist on throwing yourself about." 

He shrugged again.

Alfred continued, “Don’t forget young man that I caught you trying to scale the side of the house last week.”

~*~

He went upstairs and padded to the bathroom in just his underwear. He ran the bath. While he was waiting, he rinsed his crystal under the sink faucet, to get rid of the mud. He chuckled when he thought about how Clark had looked much worse than he did after their adventure. 

When the bath was ready, he took off his underwear, and got in. He washed himself all over, and then he sat there soaking. He was going to see how wrinkly he could get before Alfred came and told him off again. He picked up the crystal. He laughed again as he remembered how Clark’s hair and face had looked covered in thick mud.

Then he was told, “I don’t know what you are laughing at?”

His gaze darted to Clark sitting at the other end of the bathtub, looking almost as clean as Bruce did but not quite. Bruce grinned at seeing him there, “So you got the mud out?” he asked.

Clark squinted at his making fun of him, “My mom made me rinse my hair out under the hose in the yard.”

Bruce chuckled some more, “It was good fun though. It was worth it wasn’t it?”

Clark scooped up some bath water and tried to fling it at him. As with everything else the water disappeared before it reached Bruce’s side. Bruce laughed, “Ha-ha better luck next time.”

“Dork.” Clark grinned at him.

Clark reached for the shampoo to wash his hair. As he reached out, he lifted out the tub, and Bruce saw Clark’s naked body and he giggled. Clark’s gaze darted to him and he narrowed his eyes. He demanded, “What?”

“Nice little wiener you have there.” he goaded.

His friend pouted, “Like you have anything bigger.” Bruce sat in the tub smugly and Clark demanded, “Show me then.”

Bruce swallowed with apprehension. He actually wasn’t sure how it compared. Clark raised a daring eyebrow and Bruce bolstered his courage, and knelt up in the bath and showed it to his best friend. 

Clark stared at it, and then he frowned thoughtfully and then he knelt up too. He glanced between them and Bruce asked, “What do you think?”

Clark said seriously, “I think we both have little wieners.”

Bruce met his gaze and then they both burst out laughing and collapsed back down into the bath water. 

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Kindred 4/6  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,034  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce are coming of age.

 

**Present**

Bruce was grabbing a snack in the kitchen, watching the news, as he ate. There was some ignorant blowhard on the TV giving a speech about the dangers of vigilantes especially vigilantes that were also aliens. ‘How can we trust the alien, how do we know where his true loyalties and allegiances lie.’ he asked. 

Someone in the crowd asked, “All Superman has ever done is help people, what’s wrong with that?”

The guy answered, ‘That's exactly what he wants us to think, he’s still an alien who flies around thinking he is better than humans…’

Bruce shook his head and gritted out, “Asshole.” 

**Past**

It was five years to the day that Martha and Thomas Wayne was shot and killed. Alfred was standing on the path nearby and he watched from a respectful distance. Bruce went and kneeled in front of their gravestones. He didn’t know what to say. One year, five years, fifty years he doesn’t think it will ever make a difference. Because when he let himself think about it, he tried not to but when he did think about it, it just seemed like yesterday and it felt like a hundred years all at the same time. 

He could feel Alfred watching him, expecting him to say something, anything while he was here, but his mind was blank. Then he remembered the crystal that he still wore laced around his neck. Finally, he said, “Thank you for this. Thank you for giving me Clark.” He glanced over his shoulder, and added, “Thank you giving me Alfred too.” 

Bruce reached up and held the crystal in his hand. He waited for Clark to come. When he did, Bruce was saddened to see Clark was sitting next to the graves and he was crying distraughtly.

He winced internally at seeing his best friend so unhappy and he asked, “Clark, what has happened?”

His friend sniffed and then rubbed his runny nose with his sleeve. Bruce noticed that inside his tan jacket sleeve, his plaid shirt sleeve was torn to bits. He asked, “What happened to your arm?”

Clark winced and he began crying again, “Nothing, nothing happened to my arm.”

“That’s not true, tell me.” He pushed quietly.

His friend looked at him with large sorrowful eyes. He admitted, “I put my arm into the wood chipper today.”

“What?” Bruce exclaimed.

“I did it on purpose to prove a point to my dad.”

“What the hell kind of point was that?”

Clark sniffed, “That I’m not normal, you know that don’t you Bruce, the strength, the way I used to break things, the running fast, and now I can’t even get hurt. The damn thing didn’t even pinch me.”

Bruce swallowed, and asked, “Well isn’t that a good thing?”

His friend wiped his nose again and said, “I guess it would be, but after I did it, my dad came up to the loft and he told me why… oh shit Bruce, oh shit he told me why I’m like this…”

He took a deep breath and asked, “Tell me.”

Clark’s voice caught as he gasped out, “I’m an alien.”

Bruce stared at him in surprise; out of everything, he had never considered that. Then Clark pulled his legs up further to his chest and he began rocking. He muttered, “Alien.” over and over.

For the millionth time he wished he could reach out and touch Clark. Instead, he shuffled over and sat right beside him as close as he could. He said softly, “So what if you are? You are my best friend and I love you. Your mom and dad love you too. They must have always known but they loved you and wanted you to be their son. That’s all that matters." 

Bruce glanced up and saw Alfred watching him. He had come to realise through the years that Alfred had always been very indulgent about Clark’s presence in Bruce’s life. Long after Bruce realised it wasn’t exactly normal to have a best friend who was invisible to everyone else. For the last couple of years he had tried not to mention Clark. He didn’t want to worry Alfred. He certainly didn’t want anyone to think he was crazy or something. But he could never stop using the crystal and not see Clark again. 

He turned back to his friend and he told him in a strong voice. “You have been my friend as far back as I can remember and I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

Clark looked up into his eyes and asked tearfully, “How can it not matter, I’m not human?”

Bruce licked his lips and explained, “It doesn’t matter because you are Clark and you are special and that’s all that matters. You’re just my Clark.”

His friend smiled tearfully, “What would I do without you Bruce?”

He reassured him, “You won’t have to find out because we are going to be here for each other always.”

**Present**

Bruce blinked and returned his gaze to the TV screen. Everyone was startled on the screen, as a man jumped out of the crowd wielding a gun. The speechmaker’s face turn pale and he raised his hands in the air.

Everyone at the press conference was panicking, then suddenly the gun totting man's hand began shaking, then the metal of the gun turned bright red and the gunman dropped the gun and cried out.

The security guards jumped on the guy. The news cameras darted about, and came to focus on Superman, he nodded once to everyone, and then he rose into the sky and flew off.

**Past**

In class today, he had been wondering how Clark’s first few days of sophomore year had gone. Actually, he’d been wondering for the last few days. On the first day back at school, Bruce’s new teacher had spotted his crystal and had made a big deal about him wearing a necklace in front of the whole class. The teacher had tried to take it from him so he could show it to the rest of the class. When Bruce refused to hand it over, he had been sent out of the classroom and then his crystal had been confiscated by the Principal. 

Alfred had to go to a meeting with the jackass to get it back. He was then told he was banned from wearing it for school, and that he should be careful or else he could get a reputation as a troublemaker. 

Now Bruce was at home sitting on his bed. He reached for his crystal and lightly stroked it. He had begun to realise lately that the crystal and his connection to Clark was more subtle than he thought and he didn’t need to hold it so tightly to bring Clark to him.

When Clark appeared and their gazes met, Clark gave him a blinding smile. “Where have you been, I got worried that I wasn’t going to see you again.”

He returned his grin and said cockily, “Never going to happen.”

Clark came and lay down on the bed beside him. “I’ve been dying to tell you something for days.”

Bruce grimaced, “Stupid idiot of a math teacher tried to take my crystal, and Alfred had to get it back for me.” Clark laughed and Bruce noticed he seemed kind of hyped. Bruce asked, “What did you want to tell me?”

“I got a new ability the other day.”

Bruce wondered aloud, “I guess that smile means you think it’s cool.”

His friend frowned for a second, “Actually when it first happened, it scared the crap out of me to be honest. But my dad helped me figure it out and now I have complete control.”

Bruce laughed and said exasperatedly, “That’s great Clark. But are you ever going to tell me what this new power of yours is?”

Clark’s laugh was kind of nervous, as he revealed, “I can shoot fire from my eyes.”

Bruce’s own eyes widened, “What?”

His friend shrugged, “I know crazy but…”

“And you can do this any time you want?”

“Now I can, but at first it kind of just happened.”

Bruce smirked knowingly, “Just happened?”

Clark grumbled and admitted, “I almost burnt down the school, okay.”

He laughed and said, “I wish I could do that at my school.”

His friend admitted quietly, “No, you don’t. Like I said, it was scary at first. I was even too scared to look at my mom and dad.”

He nodded with sympathy, “I bet.” He remembered Clark’s smile a minute ago, and asked, “But you’re happy about it now.”

Clark nodded, “Yeah, I guess if I’ve got to be a freak I might as well get some benefits out of it.”

Bruce propped himself up and rested his head on his hand. He grumbled, “Yeah and I’m a freak without any cool powers.”

Clark censured, “Don’t say that about yourself Bruce, you’re great.”

He smiled and joked, “I’d be greater with heat vision.” 

Clark chuckled.

Then Bruce said, “So you’ve got this new one the fire one, and you got the X-ray vision last year, do you think that all your powers are going to have to do with your eyes now?”

“I have no idea. I might not get any more.”

“We thought that after we found out you were bullet proof.” He said in an irritated tone.

Clark sighed and rolled his eyes, “Bruce, are you ever going to get over that?”

He eyed him, “What do you expect, throwing yourself in front of speeding bullets?”

“I didn’t want an innocent person to get hurt.”

“Yeah, I get that Clark, I wish someone who was bulletproof had jumped in front of my mom and dad that night, but you didn’t even know what would happen when you did it. And where the hell was your Sheriff Ethan anyway, why should a kid have to protect people, it’s the police’s job isn’t it?”

His friend replied, “I don’t know where Ethan was, but Bruce I can’t not help if I can. And okay, I didn’t know what would happen exactly, but if the wood chipper didn’t hurt…”

“But you didn’t know for sure.” He muttered.

“God, Bruce I’ve already said I’m sorry like a hundred times.”

He said solemnly, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“I know I feel the same way but can we just let it go please.”

Bruce glanced at Clark, and he harrumphed, “Okay.” 

**Present**

Bruce was on a date, he didn’t want to be here, but Alfred had suggested that if he wanted to create this bogeyman persona and didn’t want to be connected to it. He should try to distance himself from it by going out and having some fun, not that this was fun. He plastered on a fake smile and pretended to be interested in where his date’s best friend’s cousin was going on vacation.

**Past**

Lying stretched out on his bed, he asked, “So are there any hot girls to use that X-ray vision on this year?”

His best friend smiled and shrugged, “Just the usual; any at your school?”

He replied self mockingly, “You know, most girls aren’t interested in the sad orphan kid.”

Clark said with annoyance, “I told you not to say things like that about yourself.”

“It’s true; everyone knows I’m the kid whose parents got murdered. There’s no getting away from it.” Clark winced in sympathy, and Bruce shrugged, “You know that’s why when Alfred asked me if I wanted to go to boarding school I said no. All the students and all teachers would know there too, so it’s not like I could start over. So what was the point and I’d rather stay with Alfred anyway.”

His friend gazed at him a long time without saying anything. Bruce asked softly, “What?”

Clark smiled at him with just his eyes, and then he said, “Those girls that you know must be crazy then because I think…” Clark swallowed and said, “I think you’re smart, and good-looking and really cool.”

Bruce’s brow creased, “You think I’m good-looking?”

His friend stared at him, and then he nodded. Bruce smiled affectionately, “I think you’re smart and good-looking too.”

Clark grinned and then he frowned, “Wait… you don’t think I’m cool?”

Bruce sniggered, “I thought your dad told you that you weren’t allowed to be cool?”

“Yeah well…”

Bruce winked at him, “Don’t worry I think you’re cool, even if everyone else doesn’t. After all I know you better than anyone else.”

~*~

Later that night Bruce was lying in bed thinking things over. He gazed at Clark who was sleeping already. He thought about what Clark had said about the girls at Bruce’s school and telling Bruce that he was good-looking. Bruce gazed at his hair as it framed his face, then he focused on his friend’s closed eyes, and his long eyelashes. Clark had really pretty eyes. He gazed at Clark’s lips. They were light pink and looked so soft. Bruce licked his own lips as he came to the conclusion that Clark was better looking than any of the girls that he knew.

Bruce watched Clark breathing, his mouth open a touch. Bruce gasped softly as his own body reacted. He licked his own lips and he sneaked his hand under the covers, into his pyjama bottoms. He touched himself. He hardened. He refocused on Clark sleeping. He began moving his hand. He let out a ragged breath. Even as he felt the pleasure, he felt guilty, using his best friend as the focus without his knowledge. He licked his lips and jerked his cock. As he got caught up in his pleasure, he thought ‘it is Clark’s fault for being so gorgeous’.

He closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure.

When he opened them, pretty eyes were looking at him in the darkness. He gasped and his hand stopped moving. Clark breathed slowly as he gazed at him. Then Clark reached under the covers and then Bruce watched as Clark began mirroring him. Bruce saw the movement of the sheets as Clark touched himself. 

Then Clark murmured to him, “Come on don’t stop.”

Bruce gave him a small smile and then Bruce continued to jerk his cock. 

Clark’s breath hitched as he speeded up. 

Bruce asked, “Can I see.”

Clark smiled shyly and then he moved the cover out the way. Bruce focused on Clark’s cock. He couldn’t stop looking at it. Then Clark requested, “Now you.”

Bruce chuckled bashfully and then he moved his own covers. He watched as Clark gazed at his cock. They glanced at each other’s faces and then they continued to jerk themselves off, while watching the other’s reactions. 

As they got closer to coming, and Clark’s cheeks became a pretty pink. Both their cock’s was hard and throbbing, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He clenched his teeth and he shuddered as wetness hit his stomach. He groaned quietly, “Oh fuck.”

Clark’s eyes widened at him swearing for the first time. Then Clark moaned quietly, “Oh god.” His mouth opened, and he arched back into the bed as he came too.

Bruce watched entranced. 

As he came to rest, Clark gazed at Bruce and whispered softly, “Oh damn.”

He smiled, “I guess our wieners aren’t so tiny anymore huh?”

Then Clark began laughing, “I guess not.”

**Present**

He complained to Alfred, “God, I think my brain has been liquidated. I never realised how stupid normal people are.”

“We all cannot be genius’ Master Bruce.”

“I know that, but does that mean I’m going to have to pretend to be an idiot just to have a conversation with these people?” 

**Past**

Bruce spied Alfred bringing the mail from his bedroom window. He rushed out of his bedroom and down the hallway. He galloped down the grand staircase. He reached the bottom as Alfred entered the Manor. Alfred glanced up, and said wryly, “Is there something that you wanted, Master Bruce?”

He asked impatiently, “Is it here?”

Alfred smiled and held out the envelope to him, “I believe that your SAT results are here.”

Bruce grabbed the envelope and tore it open. He read the result. He whooped and he hugged Alfred, and said excitedly, “I’ve got to tell Clark.”

He ran out into the garden, and didn’t see the look of worry that appeared on his guardian’s face.

He jumped up and sat on the wall. He forgot everything he had learned and squeezed the crystal tightly. Clark appeared beside him sitting on the wall. Bruce exclaimed, “I just got my SAT score.”

Clark grinned, and tilted his head, “I’ll assume you did good?”

“Great just great, I think I could get in anywhere now.” he swallowed, “And it’s all thanks to you.”

His best friend shook his head with humility. 

“It’s true, you know I have always struggled with math and you’re like a genius with it.”

Clark nodded, “Math as always come easy to me.”

He nodded, “I know that’s why I don’t get why you want to be a journalist.”

His friend shrugged, “I haven’t decided yet but it’s the thing that appeals to me the most.”

“You will be great Clark, I know it.”

Clark smiled happily at his faith in him. Then he said, “What about you, are you still thinking about studying criminology, or was it sociology?”

Bruce nodded, “It’s been eight years Clark, and I still can’t get over what happened to Mom and Dad. What drives someone to a life of crime, why do they make the wrong decisions? Why did that guy choose to shoot them instead of just running away?”

“Bruce.” Clark scolded softly.

He smiled sadly, “I know, I know I’d just like to figure it out that’s all, and maybe studying it will help me do that.”

“Maybe there’s no answer.”

“Maybe not.” he agreed. Then he realised and he asked, “Hey I forgot to ask how you scored.”

Clark grinned proudly.

 

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Kindred 5/6  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,369  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
Warning: Character death  
SUMMARY: Tragedy strikes Clark and Bruce again

 

**Present**

Bruce climbed into a hot bath. He needed to clear his head and relax his body. Pretending to be a vacuous playboy was taxing his mind and working on preparing his mission was hard on his body.

**Past**

Bruce was relaxing back in the bathtub, he murmured, “Are you sure you can’t go to Princeton?”

At the other end of the tub, Clark sighed, “I’ve already explained, I would’ve liked to but I really need to stay on the farm. My dad denies it but he needs me here.”

Bruce gazed at his best friend and admired his nudity. Clark watched him from his side of the tub with a knowing smile. Bruce admitted, “I wish we could have been there at the same time. I’d really like to touch you.”

Clark grinned, “First of all I think you’re starting to get a one track mind. Second, we don’t know for sure if it’s even possible for us to meet in the flesh.”

He nodded, “I know we’ve talked through the possibilities, and the reason for our connection. I know neither of us wants to be disappointed with the reality of our situation.”

His best friend’s gaze dropped to the crystal hanging around his neck. He said, “The most likely scenario is your crystal.”

Bruce agreed, “We’ve learned that people from your planet have been here before and left artefacts behind.”

Clark nodded, “You’re right and those things have been revered by certain people.”

“Like the tribeswoman that gave my dad this. Or there might be one other possibility.”

“You mean the fact that one of us or both of us might be crazy.”

“It’s one possibility.” Bruce smiled. “But to put you right, I meant we could meet in the flesh, so I could shake your hand or maybe hug you or something.”

Clark laughed, “You want to shake my hand that’s all?”

He gazed at his friend. His hair was wet, and curling, his cheeks were flush, his eyes were sparkling at him, and his body had grown to match how amazing the rest of him was. As they had gotten older, Clark had become more and more beautiful. In Bruce’s opinion, he was still better looking than any of the girls that Bruce knew, and better looking than any of the boys for that matter. 

He reached out and placed his fingers next to Clark’s on the edge of the tub. He told him honestly, “I just want to touch you.”

Clark gazed at him with affection, then he slowly let his eyes check out Bruce’s naked body, then he murmured, “I’d like to touch you too.” Clark reached down into the water and began jerking his own cock.

Bruce shook his head at Clark’s teasing. Then he mirrored him and began stroking his cock too. They leered at each other as both their manhood’s appeared above the waterline. 

Then Clark smiled, “Do you know how much flack I get for spending so much time alone in my loft or for being in the bathroom so long.”

He murmured, “I like talking to you in the bath.”

“I do too.”

**Present**

Bruce groaned as the memory stirred something inside him that not even the beautiful women that he had dated recently could move. He reached under the water and he wrapped his fist around his cock and began stroking. He thought about his old friend, he remembered how sexy he had been. His mind remade him in Superman’s stunning image. 

Bruce choked on the cry of pleasure as he came over his fist. 

~*~

The computer he had installed in the cave was set up; it had taken weeks to get all the powerful components together. He considered what task to give it first. He smirked, he knew of course. He imputed all the information that he remembered.

He waited for it to finish its first task. He was pleased when he saw page after page of information appear. He smiled proudly at the supercomputer. His gaze caught the name Clark Kent a second before the screen blipped and then the information disappeared. Bruce asked it, “What just happened?” 

The message on screen revealed, “Search blocked, information deleted.”

Bruce stared at the message. ‘How?’ he wondered. 

The computer told him, “Unrecognisable system blocked processes; further attempts will cause a critical system error.” 

“Damn, what the hell is that powerful…”

He focused on the one thing he had learnt. His name was Clark Kent. Maybe he should have already known it, but all those years it never seemed important. They had believed at first that they were sharing the same life. By the time they knew different, they knew each other too well to ask.

He considered making contact. But he decided to wait, wait until everything was set; wait until he could face him again as an equal.

 

**Past**

Bruce was lying on his bed. His nose was in a textbook. He was waiting patiently as his dorm mate got ready to go out for the evening. Todd was fixing his hair, he glanced at Bruce, and he shook his head, “Hey Wayne, why don’t you come out to the bar with me, help me find some chicks.”

Bruce muttered, “You seem to do just fine without any help.”

Todd grinned, “Yeah I do, but you could be a great wingman. With your money and if you made an effort you could be a good looking dude.” 

“I’m not interested in a girl that likes me for my money or what I can spend on them. Besides I didn’t come here to meet girls, I’m here to study.”

“Man you are a weird one, Wayne.”

Bruce shrugged and kept on reading.

A few minutes later, Todd left the dorm room. Bruce put the textbook aside. He locked his door. He returned to his bed and stroked the crystal hanging around his neck. A few seconds later, Clark appeared lying on his bed. His position suggested he was laying on his bed reading with the book on his pillow. His friend groaned when he saw him, “I’m trying to study.”

He smiled, and teased him, “Don’t you know that college guys are supposed to blow off studying on Friday night, and go to the bar and get laid.”

“I attend college to study, not do that other stuff.” Clark said seriously.

Bruce stared at him and then Clark began smiling cheekily. Bruce grabbed his pillow and made an unsuccessful attempt to hit his friend with it. As with everything, it missed. Bruce muttered, “If I could touch you, you’d be so screwed.”

Clark’s eyes widened, and Bruce realised his double entendre. He grinned at Clark, “Sorry I didn’t mean that.”

Clark swallowed, “Didn’t you?”

Bruce swallowed nervously too. His jeans tightened at the crotch as he considered the idea. Clark’s gaze was totally focused on him. Bruce licked his lips. Then he popped the button on his jeans. He shoved them down, his gaze still locked on Clark’s, then he wrapped his fist around himself, and he began jerking his cock slowly.

Clark breathed heavily and then he released himself and began jerking his cock too. Bruce admired how Clark had grown since they were just boys, how long and thick Clark’s cock had become how it filled his fist when it was rock hard. Clark was watching Bruce’s cock with the same kind of fascination.

Then Bruce noticed he had an unusual glint in his eyes. Clark smiled lazily at him, “Bruce.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “What’s going on with you, Clark?”

Clark licked his lips slowly; he asked huskily, “Do you ever jerk off when I’m not there?”

He admitted, “No not really, it’s always been better with you.”

His friend smiled smugly, “So if I asked, you would do something for me?”

“Huh-huh.”

“Will you take your jeans off?”

His body quivered in reaction. Then he pushed his jeans all the ways off. 

Clark licked his full lips and asked, “Your boxers too.”

Bruce slipped them off and he lay back on the bed, with his head on the pillow. He spread his legs as he continued to stroke his cock. Clark moved down the bed. He watched as Clark’s gaze became heavy lidded and then he asked, “Can you raise your legs a little?”

With nervous excitement, he did as he was asked. Then Clark groaned deep down in his chest and Bruce knew Clark was seeing what he wanted to see. He asked a little flustered, “Good?”

Clark groaned and nodded. Then Clark scooted forward, so he was inches away. Bruce looked down the length of his own body and saw the tip of Clark’s cock almost at his ass. Stupidly he gasped, forgetting for the moment that they had never been able to touch.

But it didn’t changed the fact, if it wasn’t for that obstacle Clark’s cock would be… that Clark might…

Bruce moaned as he met Clark’s gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing. Then Clark was jerking his cock hard. Bruce reached down and played with his own balls. Then with Clark’s gaze still at his ass, he reached down and stroked his finger over his asshole gently, he moaned at the feeling. Then Bruce watched as Clark came. Knowing in another situation, he would’ve come over Bruce’s ass. 

As Clark calmed down, Bruce murmured, hard cock still in hand, “You now.”

His best friend gazed at him with flushed cheeks and lust drunken eyes. Then Clark turned over and pushed his jeans out the way. Bruce’s gaze went to Clark’s ass. He asked, “Can you show me?”

Clark did as he asked, he spread the cheeks a little, and Bruce groaned, “Oh god.”

Clark asked hoarsely, “Good?”

He moaned, “So damned good.”

Then he jerked his throbbing cock, wanting to come, wanting to come on him. Then he was coming hard. 

He flopped onto the bed sated and panting and then Clark turned over and faced him. He smiled slowly at him and Clark smiled the same kind of smile back at him. Then Clark crawled over until he was braced over Bruce and gazing down at him. Bruce gazed into his eyes and then Clark closed the gap. A hairbreadth away, his lips hovered over his, Clark murmured, “I wish…”

Bruce’s brow creased, “Me too.”

**Present**

As Bruce tried the Batsuit on for the first, he felt empowered. He reached for and then fitted the cowl over his head. He gazed at himself in the mirror, and he remembered what had spurred him on, what happened that finally tipped him over the edge and caused him to go this far in the pursuit of justice.

**Past**

Bruce was strolling around campus. His roommate Todd had another girl up there in the dorm room. They didn’t seem to be bothered by Bruce’s presence at all; they had just carried on pawing each other. He’d had to go out to escape. It was only a few weeks since Christmas break and it was difficult getting back into the swing of things. He had shared a quiet Christmas with Alfred as always, yet he always had his best friend with him anytime he wanted if he needed him. He smiled as he thought of Clark. He continued walking in the crisp winter air and he reached up under his scarf and played with his crystal. 

After a few moments Clark hadn’t appeared. Bruce frowned wondering where he was, and then he heard a noise a little distance away. He frowned and followed the sounds. He rounded a small wall near the footpath Bruce was on. His heart leaped into his throat as he saw his oldest and dearest friend sitting with his back against the wall. He was weeping fitfully.

Bruce rushed to his side. He gazed down at him. He was almost afraid to ask, Clark had always been strong, even when something bothered him he stayed calm. Now seeing him so desolate… he steeled himself and asked, “Clark…?”

His best friend looked up at him with his beautiful eyes filled with tears. Clark shook his head and winced when he saw him and he cried, “Bruce.”

He wanted to reach out, but he knew he couldn’t, he asked, “What is it Clark?”

Clark opened his mouth but he choked on the words. “He’s gone Bruce, he’s gone.”

His eyes widened, “What?”

His friend squeezed his eyes shut, and whimpered, “Dad.”

He didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want whatever the reality was to be true. He gazed at Clark and knew he needed to ask. “Where has he gone?”

“He’s gone, he’s dead.” Clark choked out.

Bruce fell to his knees, “Oh god no. Not again.”

Clark nodded.

Bruce felt as though he was going to be sick. He asked, “What happened?”

“It was a heart attack. Oh god he was standing right there in front of me and then he began falling…”

Bruce was nodding, lost in his memories… he saw him - them falling down in front of him again. He screwed his eyes closed against the memory. 

“Bruce, why couldn’t I save him?” Clark asked desperately.

He took a deep breath and asked, “What about Mom is she alive?”

Clark met his gaze and he stuttered, “She’s okay but…” he gasped, “I failed her too. She wanted me to go with her but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t face it not after Dad.”

Bruce tried to make sense of his friend’s ramblings, he asked, “Why… How did you fail her? What happened to Mom?”

“They took his watch.”

“What are you saying?”

“She didn’t have anything just his watch and they took it.”

“Who took the watch?”

Clark gazed at him and told him, “The muggers.” 

Bruce’s stomach turned over, “The muggers stole Dad’s watch from Mom?”

Clark nodded. He reached up to his own cheek in a daze, “They pushed her down, and her cheek was cut. I should have been there. Oh god Bruce, I should have been there.”

“Where were the police?”

His grieving friend looked at him in confusion, “The police? God I don’t know.”

“They didn’t catch them?”

“No.”

The quiet fury that had been his constant companion for ten years slipped its leash. He growled, “What are you going to do about it?” Clark glanced at him with a question in his own eyes. Bruce told him, “People like them can’t get away with it, not over and over again.”

Clark began nodding in agreement. His eyes became steely and he said lowly, “You’re right.” Clark stood up and declared, “They can’t hide from me.”

Bruce nodded with approval, “Make the scumbags pay for this, Clark.”

Clark’s eyes narrowed, and then he blurred away.

~*~

He didn’t go to class; he just went over and over what he had found out. He grieved for his friend’s loss, just as he still grieved his own loss. Yet he was also envious. Clark was in a position where he could make a difference, make those bastards pay for preying on innocent people. If he’d had the powers, the abilities of his friend, he could have tracked down the bastard who had killed his parents. 

If he had those kinds of skills, he could stop these people. He could scare the scumbags so much that they dare not even try to prey on innocent people ever again. 

His mind wouldn’t rest, wondering what Clark was doing. Had he found the scum? He walked around the campus, and he watched the people happily, blindly going about their business. It was as if they were living in a different reality to him, they didn’t know the world as Bruce knew it. He’d always felt different never quite in step with the rest of the world. His friendship with Clark had always shielded his eyes from the truth. He had never needed anyone else, never needed to get close to anyone else, only Alfred. Alfred had promised to be there for him always, and he had kept that promise. 

He thought about the classes he had missed today. What use were they to him really? What he really needed was skills, practical skills. He knew he could never have the kinds of skills like those that Clark had. But what if he could find a way to learn the skills he needed. His inheritance would take care of his needs for the rest of his life; he didn’t need to earn a living. What he really needed was to understand how the world worked and how he could make a difference in it.

He went up to his dorm room, he walked right past Todd and his girlfriend, he grabbed his bag and began stuffing his belongings into it.

Then he went and caught the train home to Gotham.

~*~

He tried to calculate, estimate how long it would take Clark to find and sort out the muggers. Then he pressed his fingers to the crystal. When Clark appeared, he was standing looking off to the horizon. Bruce followed his line of sight and saw the sun setting. Bruce frowned as he realised he hadn’t even noticed the beauty of it. He walked over to Clark. He asked, “Did you find them?”

Clark glanced at him and then continued looking at the sunset. He told him, “I found them.”

“Well?”

Clark licked his lips and revealed, “I wanted to kill them. I had my hand wrapped around one of their throats, and I was so tempted to squeeze.”

“I don’t blame you; with your powers it would be so easy for you.”

His long-time friend shook his head; he said quietly, “No not easy. Do you know how hard it was to hold back and not do it?”

Bruce swallowed, “What stopped you then?”

Clark turned and smiled gently, “They had already stolen my dad’s watch; I wasn’t going to let them steal my morality.”

He shook his head with wonder, “Clark, how… how can you be so good?”

His friend shook his head, “As if you would have killed him, Bruce.”

“I might.” He replied.

Clark gazed at him softly, “No, you wouldn’t, not my Bruce.”

Bruce gazed out towards the horizon, he agreed, “No he wouldn’t, not your Bruce.”

**Present**

The blood was singing in his veins as he kicked the mugger’s feet from under him. The victim screamed and ran off, almost as scared of the black clad figure as the man trying to steal her hard earned money. The mugger tried to scramble to his feet but he was punched back down. He took a hold around the mugger’s throat and squeezed, he growled, “How does it feel to be the defenceless one?”

The villain coughed and spluttered and his face reddened. 

He leaned down and got in his face, “You tell every scumbag that you know that I’m here. That Gotham is mine. You tell them they’ve been warned. You tell them Batman is watching them.”

**Past**

They watched the sun go down together. Then they walked back to Bruce’s bedroom. They undressed and climbed into bed. They gazed at each other until Clark’s eyes got heavy lidded, and Bruce watched him go to sleep. Then Bruce smiled with affection and he whispered, “Goodbye my Clark, I love you.”

~*~

Bruce opened the black jewellery box in his parents’ bedroom. He noticed it wasn’t so big anymore. He reached up and unfastened the lace around his neck. He laid the icicle back inside. Echoing his father’s words he said softly, “When you’re older Bruce.”

He closed the lid and then left the bedroom. He went back to his own bedroom, he picked up his backpack, and he went downstairs and he left Alfred a note explaining everything on the kitchen table. 

Then he left Wayne Manor, Gotham and his life… in hopes of finding that something that was calling to him.

 

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

TITLE: Kindred 6/6  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 3,573  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce re-established contact, so what does that mean for their friendship?

 

**Present**

 

There were whispers in every dark corner of Gotham. The majority at first laughed off the rumours but little by little, night after night, the laughter got quieter and the people who inhabited those dark corners started to worry. The speculation gathered until there was even a small article, not a headline, just a small one in the bottom corner of the newspaper speculating on the birth of an urban legend.

He returned from a patrol of the rougher districts of Gotham. He was met in the cave by Alfred. “All went well, sir.”

Batman cringed at the formality. He sighed, “Yes as good as we can expect.”

“No bumps or bruises?”

“No I’m fine.”

“Very well, your supper is waiting upstairs.”

“Thank you.” he said sheepishly.

“My pleasure, Sir.”

He grimaced again at Alfred treating him as the master of the house, because he sure as hell didn’t feel like it most of the time. He went to change out of the Batsuit before going upstairs.

~*~

Bruce left the kitchen after eating the meal that Alfred had prepared for him. He was headed for his bedroom but his gaze was drawn to his parent’s bedroom. He swallowed to wet his mouth. He approached and turned the doorknob. As soon as he entered, his gaze found the black jewellery box. He went to it and opened it. He smiled reflexively as he saw his good luck charm. With his crusade, luck was something he might need. He picked it up by the lace and he tied it around his neck where it belonged. He didn’t touch the crystal, when he did he wanted it to be the right time.

He closed the lid and then he left the bedroom. He carried on his journey to his own bedroom.

~*~

That night he lay in bed, and thought about Clark. He wondered if he was aware of the presence of Batman yet. He wondered what his old friend would think of the new vigilante. He had found out that Clark Kent worked for the Daily Planet newspaper. It looked like Clark had followed his ambition. He decided it was time to consider making contact with his old friend. 

~*~

The following day, he paced the study. He had dressed smartly. He smiled slightly in self-mockery for wanting to make a good impression with someone he had known for most of his life. He checked the time. Clark would probably be at work about now. Bruce licked his lips nervously. Then he reached for the crystal and he caressed it and thought of his friend. 

As with all their previous interactions, Clark appeared as if he was in Bruce’s sphere. Clark was sitting working away at the desk in the study. Bruce watched him from across the room, understanding that Clark was probably working in a very busy environment. Clark glanced sideways and spoke to someone Bruce couldn’t see. Bruce stepped closer nervously. Clark continued working, but then he glanced up as if he had felt something and he spotted him. 

Clark’s eyes widened behind the glasses he was wearing, and then he blinked purposefully. Then he looked at him again. Then Clark whispered in shock, “Bruce?”

Bruce tried to smile, tried to fight his nerves, but when Clark stood up and began coming towards him, Bruce’s nerves got the better of him, and he left the study. Shutting the door behind him and then leaning back against it and breathing heavily.

God, why was he so goddamned nervous? It was Clark, his best friend his whole life, okay it was quite a few years since they last saw each other but… he was worried; what if Clark didn’t forgive him for just disappearing without a word? What if he didn’t agree with or like Bruce’s way of dealing with the scumbags out there? What if he didn’t want… him anymore?

~*~

Later on that night, he decided to try again but this time he was going to introduce himself as Batman, and weigh up his reaction.

He dressed in the Batsuit, and went and found a rooftop overlooking Gotham. He placed the crystal inside his gauntlet hidden from view. He poised himself and then he thought of his friend again. His friend came into view facing away from him and Batman could see the red cape and red boots that he wore as Superman. He took a deep breath readying himself, however, Superman turned around suddenly and caught him almost off guard.

Superman narrowed his gaze when he saw him and asked, “What do you want?”

Batman nodded, and murmured, “Super hearing, I forgot about that.”

Superman tilted his head, “Are you going to answer my question?”

He informed him, “I’m Batman. I’ve chosen to protect Gotham as you have chosen to protect Metropolis.”

Superman’s brow creased as he asked, “So that’s the reason you have come, just to tell me that and say what… hello?”

He licked his lips nervously and Superman’s gaze followed the movement. Batman replied, “I thought I owed you the courtesy of telling you.”

Superman’s frown deepened, he turned away and gazed out over the city. Batman watched him curiously, and moved to stand next to him. He asked, “Is something wrong?”

His old friend sighed, “It’s just been a weird day that’s all, first I thought I saw someone this morning that I never thought I’d see again. Now you’re here politely introducing yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be polite?” he asked lowly.

Superman flashed a grin at him, “I read about a vigilante in Gotham, but the way he was described I couldn’t imagine him being polite.”

Batman told him, “I can be polite to you because you’re a hero, someone to look up to, and because we are on the same side. I don’t have to be polite to the scumbags haunting the streets of Gotham. Truthfully I’m there to scare the shit out of them.”

Superman nodded thoughtfully, “Bats can be very scary to some people.”

He huffed, “Tell me about it.”

His old friend turned to him then. He swallowed and stated, “The person I thought I saw this morning was scared of bats.”

He nodded but didn’t say anymore.

Superman took a breath and then raised his hand and reached out. As always, his hand met nothing and Superman let out a choked breath. His eyes were full of pain and hope as he asked, “Bruce?”

Batman’s body trembled, and he reached up and pulled the cowl off. He answered in his normal voice, “Hi Clark.”

His best friend gazed at him at length and then Clark shook his head, and confessed, “I don’t know what to say.”

Bruce checked out Superman’s uniform, and he shrugged, “I guess we both had the same idea, except you already had the tools to work with. From what I can tell the flying and the super-breath are the only powers you’ve got since I left.”

Clark nodded, and replied, “I guess but all the rest seem to be getting stronger as I get older.”

He nodded, “We thought as much, remember.”

Clark nodded again and then asked, “So is that where you went to… you didn’t do something… you didn’t… you didn’t get yourself powers somehow?”

He smiled and shook his head, “Yes, yes, no and no.” he laughed for the first time in a very long time, “I trained myself, well I got some help here or there, learnt from them. But no I haven’t got powers.”

Clark checked out the Batsuit, and smiled, “So you went with the bats after all, huh?”

Bruce nodded, and asked quietly, “You don’t have a problem with me you know looking after Gotham?”

“After everything you must have been through, would my opinion stop you?”

He answered honestly, “No it wouldn’t, but I would like to have your support.”

Clark bowed his head and asked, “I remember the last time we talked, I told you my Bruce wouldn’t kill…” he swallowed, and asked, “Does Batman kill?”

He wished again that they could touch. Instead, he requested, “Look at me Clark.”

His best friend raised his head and met his gaze. Bruce held it and stated firmly, “Batman doesn’t kill.”

Clark let out a breath that he was holding and smiled with relief, and said, “Then you have my support.”

“Thank you.”

Clark smiled softly, “It’s so good to see you again. I started to think I imagined you all along, and that you weren’t real.”

Bruce smiled, “I’m real.”

~*~

They made their way home together, talking all the way without breaking the connection. He made it back to the cave and removed the Batsuit. As he did so, he watched Clark’s reaction. Clark’s gaze took in Bruce’s new physique. Clark swallowed and told him candidly, “You’re even more beautiful than you already were.”

Bruce glanced down Superman’s body and then he met his friend’s eyes, “No it was you who was always the beautiful one.”

Clark’s cheeks coloured, “I don’t think so.”

He asked softly, “Don’t tell me you’re going to be bashful with me?”

His long-time friend shook his head, “No.”

“Good.”

Still naked he reached up and re-tied the lace that held the crystal around his neck. Clark gazed at the crystal with knowingness. Bruce stroked it and asked, “You know what it is now?”

“It’s what we thought.”

Bruce grinned and said, “It’s a Kryptonian walkie-talkie?”

Clark grinned in return, “Essentially, normally it would be programed to contact the person you want to talk to. I guess the first time you used it, it was a fluke, and it contacted the only Kryptonian on the planet.”

He nodded and said knowingly, “But after that first time it was because I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah.” Clark agreed fondly.

He slipped on some sweatpants, and he made his way up to the house. They continued the conversation they had started, “So can I assume the glasses you wear are part of a disguise?”

“I didn’t want to wear a mask.”

“I get that, I mean I couldn’t show my face even if I wanted to, I’m trying to put the fear of god into the criminals.”

“You definitely couldn’t scare anyone with your face.” Clark complimented.

Bruce smiled softly, “Thank you Clark.”

He heard movement, he glanced away from Clark, and he saw Alfred gazing at him from down the hall. He recognised the horror and worry in his guardian’s eyes. He knew that to Alfred, he appeared as if he was not only talking to himself but also conversing with his imaginary friend from childhood. Bruce licked his lips nervously. He stated carefully, “It’s not what you think.”

Alfred looked pale as he asked, “Is it not?”

From beside him Clark asked, “What’s going on is something the matter?”

Bruce tore his gaze from Alfred and glanced sideways, he murmured, “It’s Alfred he’s caught me talking to you again.”

Alfred looked sick and he turned and entered the closest room, as if he had to get away as quickly as he could. Bruce screwed his eyes shut. His friend said, “Tell me what’s happening.”

He looked at Clark and said, “This isn’t what I had in mind tonight. Listen I’ve got to go and talk to Alfred about this. He put up with it when we were kids but now I believe he thinks that I’m psychotic.”

His friend gazed at him and then asked, “Maybe I can help, if he saw that I’m real.”

“No not right now, not like this, I’ll contact you again after I’ve seen to Alfred.”

“So what if I wanted to find you, you would be… somewhere in Gotham?” Clark asked. 

Bruce smiled, “One step at a time.”

Clark sighed and then asked, “I’ll see you soon?”

He nodded. Then Clark disappeared into thin air. Bruce took a steadying breath and then followed Alfred.

~*~

Alfred turned around as Bruce entered. His guardian appeared tense. Bruce said, “I can explain, Alfred. Maybe I should have tried to explain years ago.”

Alfred looked pained, “I think maybe I am to blame, I saw the signs but did nothing to help you.”

Bruce smiled and told him with deep affection, “Oh Alfred you helped me more than I could have ever hoped for, you took me on and looked after me when there was no reason for you to take on that responsibility.”

“I did it because I love you boy.” His dear friend told him.

Bruce nodded, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, and without Clark.”

Alfred winced.

Bruce raised his hand pacifyingly, and then motioned to a couch. “Please sit down, and let me tell you something.”

Dejectedly Alfred took the seat and Bruce sat down too. He began, “This might not sound right but…” he took a breath, “…Okay, you know that my friend Clark has been with me for a long time…” 

Alfred nodded.

“We… I mean me and Clark had our theories especially as we got older and we realised our friendship wasn’t normal…” 

Alfred swallowed hard.

“But I think that maybe I should have told you back then what we thought. Alfred, Clark is a real person…” 

Alfred’s eyes widened but Bruce continued on.

“He’s real and you have actually seen him on the TV. He’s Superman.”

Alfred looked alarmed and tried to stand up, had to get away. Bruce reached out and restrained him. Alfred decried, “Oh my lord, this is where the Batman thing came from isn’t it? In your mind you have connected your hallucination with this alien hero and you have made yourself his peer in your own mind.”

Bruce knew it probably sounded that way but he had to get the full explanation out. “Alfred, please listen to me, I know that it must seem that way but…” he lifted his crystal by the lace, “You remember this, this is what makes it so Clark and I can communicate. We were pretty sure it’s from his planet, from Krypton.”

“Superman only arrived from Krypton two years ago.”

“No, people just assume that, he arrived when he was little, the first time we spoke he was hiding in the wardrobe because he had just broken his adoptive parent’s bed by accident. He grew up on a farm. Don’t you remember when I was little that I asked you for some cows and chickens, that’s because he had them there on the farm.”

Alfred whispered, “Chickens for breakfast.”

Bruce smiled in reminiscence, “Yeah.”

“But that doesn’t prove anything, Bruce.” Alfred said fearfully.

“I know it doesn’t. I could get today’s Daily Planet and show you an article by a journalist called Clark Kent, but it wouldn’t prove it was my Clark. I could tell you how he got each of his powers. I could tell you that tonight was the first time in years since I have spoken to him. Because when I left, I left the crystal here at the Manor, and that I’ve been nervous about making contact with him ever since I got back. But it still wouldn’t prove he is real.”

Alfred gazed at him, “You seem so sure.”

“Please Alfred, you have stood by me all this time, please just give me a little bit more of that faith, and I will prove everything I have told you is true.”

Alfred studied him, and then reached out and put his hand over his. He told him, “You have it my boy.”

~*~

The following day, a black car pulled up outside the Daily Planet building. Alfred Pennyworth exited and then waited on the sidewalk until the crowds of workers piled out the rotating door. As the tall dark haired gentleman wearing glasses stepped out, Alfred approached, “Excuse me sir, are you Clark Kent?”

The man adjusted his glasses, and replied, “Yes, y-yes I am.”

He swallowed slightly and said, “You do not know me Mr Kent, but I believe we have a friend in common. My name is Alfred.”

Clark’s eyes widened and he asked flustered, “Alfred, as in Bruce’s Alfred?”

The older man chuckled with great relief, “Yes, yes Mr Kent, I am Bruce’s Alfred. Good lord he was telling the truth.”

The black haired man asked with excitement, “Is Bruce here with you?”

Alfred requested, “I hoped to talk to you alone.”

Clark frowned in consternation for a moment and then he smiled, “I guess so.” He motioned towards a café across the street, “Would you like a cup of coffee, or perhaps tea?”

The older man nodded his assent and they walked over to the café and got a table. They waited until their drinks were served. Clark noticed with amusement that Alfred spent a while dipping his teabag in the hot water. Alfred realised his amusement, and explained, “The tea is never strong enough on this side of the Atlantic unless you brew your own.”

Clark smiled fondly, “It’s strange we’ve never met but I feel like I know you.”

“I must admit Mr Kent that your presence in Master Bruce’s childhood was both a curse and a blessing.”

“A curse?” he asked worriedly.

“I always imagined you as a mischievous little urchin, like Peter Pan getting my boy into all sorts of scrapes and putting foolish things into his head.”

Clark smiled bashfully, “I never thought of myself that way, Alfred.”

Alfred speculated, “I suppose your mother and father thought the same of Master Bruce?”

“I don’t know, I guess they thought it was a side effect, or coping mechanism for being… out of place.”

Alfred nodded in understanding, “To make me understand your connection to each other Master Bruce told me your secret I hope you don’t mind.”

The hero in disguise shrugged, “From what Bruce told me last night, and what his plan of action is I assume he has your blessing?” 

“Not my blessing by any means Mr Kent, but he has my support.”

“Then my secret is safe with you?”

“Of course.” The older man stated forthrightly.

Clark chuckled apprehensively, “I can’t believe after all these years that Bruce and I are going to meet in the flesh.”

Alfred gazed at him thoughtfully. “Can I ask sir, how this connection with the crystal works? I mean do you remember being at Wayne Manor?”

“Wayne Manor, is that where…” he chuckled, “Bruce always teased me about the farm and doing chores but I never realised… so Wayne Manor is a…”

“A country estate sir, Master Bruce is the sole heir to the fortune…”

“Wow… um I guess to answer your question, no I never saw Wayne Manor. When Bruce would appear it would be in my bedroom, or in my loft, um… last night he came to me on a rooftop in Metropolis. When you caught us talking we had gone back to my apartment here in Metropolis.”

Alfred’s brow creased, “So I assume the opposite is true, you appeared to him at the Manor.”

“I guess and later at his college dorm as well.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, “That long… I mean to say, you were with him always?”

Clark smiled shyly, “Yeah, we shared everything… until he left that year.”

“And you plan to continue to share everything now that he is back?”

Clark met his gaze and said with resolve, “I don’t know what the future holds, but yes I would like to.”

Alfred finished his cup of tea. He stood up and said, “In that case sir there is no need to continue this conversation.”

Clark stood up too, he frowned worriedly, “What do you mean by that? Did I say something wrong?”

The older man gave him a small smile, “No need to fret, I just mean we will have plenty of time to talk, if you are going to be around for a while to come.”

Clark mirrored the smile, but when Alfred headed back to the car, Clark called, “When will I get to see Bruce?”

Alfred raised a brow, and then he reached out and opened the door to the back seat of the black car. Long legs appeared first and then the familiar yet new figure stepped out of the car. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and dark pants. Clark’s breath caught, as he met his gaze. Bruce smiled nervously, “Hello Clark.”

Clark shook his head and smiled softly, “Hi Bruce.”

They walked towards each other until they were only a foot apart. There was a long moment of angst, of fear of the moment finally happening. Bruce’s heart fluttered as he gazed at the man who meant everything to him. He smiled bashfully, and held out his hand.

His closest friend, his almost brother, the boy he had loved his whole life gazed at his hand. Clark shook his head and then he drew him into a heartfelt hug. There on the sidewalk Bruce returned the hug with all that he was worth.

They pulled back and stared at each other. Then Bruce reached out and cupped Clark’s face, he asked, “Can I?”

Clark breathed deeply and nodded and then he met him halfway and their lips met tenderly.

 

The end


End file.
